THE REVELATION
A few moments before the castle clock struck four, a man leaped across
the ditch which served as enclosure to the park. Lambernier, for it was
he who showed himself so prompt at keeping his promise, directed his
steps through the thickets toward the corner of the Corne woods which he
had designated to Marillac; but, after walking for some time, he was
forced to slacken his steps. The hunting-party were coming in his
direction, and Lambernier knew that to continue in the path he had first
chosen would take him directly among the hunters; and, in spite of his
insolence, he feared the Baron too much to wish to expose himself to the
danger of another chastisement. He therefore retraced his steps and took
a roundabout way through the thickets, whose paths were all familiar to
him; he descended to the banks of the river ready to ascend to the place
appointed for the rendezvous as soon as the hunting party had passed.
He had hardly reached the plateau covered with trees, which extended
above the rocks, when, as he entered a clearing which had been recently
made, he saw two men coming toward him who were walking very fast, and
whom to meet in this place caused him a very disagreeable sensation. The
first man was Mademoiselle de Corandeuil's coachman, as large a fellow as
ever crushed the seats of landau or brougham with his rotundity. He was
advancing with hands in the pockets of his green jacket and his broad
shoulders thrown back, as if he had taken it upon himself to replace
Atlas. His cap, placed in military fashion upon his head, his scowling
brows, and his bombastic air, announced that he was upon the point of
accomplishing some important deed which greatly interested him. Leonard
Rousselet, walking by his side, moved his spider legs with equal
activity, carefully holding up the skirts of his long coat as if they
were petticoats.
Lambernier, at sight of them, turned to enter the woods again, but he was
stopped in his retreat by a threatening shout.
"Stop, you vagabond!" exclaimed the coachman; "halt! If you take a
trot, I shall take a gallop."
"What do you want? I have no business with you," replied the workman, in
a surly tone.
"But I have business with you," replied the big domestic, placing himself
in front of him and balancing himself first on his toes then on his
heels, with a motion like the wooden rocking-horses children play with.
"Come here, Rousselet; are you wheezy or foundered?"
"I have not as good legs as your horses," replied the old man, who
reached them at last, breathless, and took off his hat to wipe his
forehead.
"What does this mean, jumping out upon one from a corner in the woods
like two assassins?" asked Lambernier, foreseeing that this beginning
might lead to some scene in which he was threatened to be forced to play
a not very agreeable role.
"It means," said the coachman: "first, that Rousselet has nothing to do
with it; I do not need anybody's help to punish an insignificant fellow
like you; second, that you are going to receive your quietus in a trice."
At these words he pushed his cap down over his ears and rolled up his
sleeves, in order to give freer action to his large, broad hands.
The three men were standing upon a plot of ground where charcoal had been
burned the year before. The ground was black and slippery, but being
rather level, it was a very favorable place for a duel with fists or any
other weapons. When Lambernier saw the lackey's warlike preparations,
he placed his cap and coat upon an old stump and stationed himself in
front of his adversary. But, before the hostilities had begun, Rousselet
advanced, stretching his long arms out between them, and said, in a voice
whose solemnity seemed to be increased by the gravity of the occasion:
"I do not suppose that you both wish to kill each other; only uneducated
people conduct themselves in this vulgar manner; you ought to have a
friendly explanation, and see if the matter is not susceptible of
arrangement. That was the way such things were done when I was in the
twenty-fifth demi-brigade."
"The explanation is," said the coachman, in his gruff voice, "that here
is a low fellow who takes every opportunity to undervalue me and my
horses, and I have sworn to give him a good drubbing the first time I
could lay my hands upon him. So, Pere Rousselet, step aside. He will
see if I am a pickle; he will find out that the pickle is peppery!"
"If you made use of such a vulgar expression as that," observed
Rousselet, turning to Lambernier, "you were at fault, and should beg his
pardon as is the custom among educated people."
"It is false!" exclaimed Lambernier; "and besides, everybody calls the
Corandeuils that, on account of the color of their livery."
"Did you not say Sunday, at the 'Femme-sans-Tete', and in the presence of
Thiedot, that all the servants of the chateau were idlers and good-for-
nothings, and that if you met one of them who tried to annoy you, you
would level him with your plane?"
"If you used the word 'level,' it was very uncivil," observed Rousselet.
"Thiedot had better keep in his own house," growled the carpenter,
clenching his fists.
"It looks well for a tramp like you to insult gentlemen like us,"
continued the lackey, in an imposing tone. "And did you not say that
when I took Mademoiselle to mass I looked like a green toad upon the box,
..thus trying to dishonor my physique and my clothes? Did you not say
that?"
"Only a joke about the color of your livery. They call the others
measles and lobsters."
"Lobsters are lobsters," replied the coachman, in an imperative tone; "if
that vexes them, they can take care of themselves. But I will not allow
any one to attack my honor or that of my beasts by calling them screws--
and that is what you did, you vagabond! And did you not say that I sent
bags of oats to Remiremont to be sold, and that, for a month, my team had
steadily been getting thin? Did you ever hear anything so scandalous,
Pere Rousselet? to dare to say that I endanger the lives of my horses?
Did you not say that, you rascal? And did you not say that Mademoiselle
Marianne and I had little private feasts in her room, and that was why I
could not eat more at the table? Here is Rousselet, who has been a
doctor and knows that I am on a diet on account of my weak stomach." At
these words, the servant, carried away by his anger, gave his stomach a
blow with his fist.
"Lambernier," said Rousselet, turning up his lips with a look of
contempt, "I must admit that, for a man well brought up, you have made
most disgusting remarks."
"To say that I eat the horses' oats!" roared the coachman.
"I ought to have said that you drank them," replied Lambernier, with his
usual sneer.
"Rousselet, out of the way!" exclaimed the burly lackey at this new
insult; the old peasant not moving as quickly as he desired, he seized
him by the arm and sent him whirling ten steps away.
At this moment, a new person completed the scene, joining in it, if not
as actor at least as interested spectator. If the two champions had
suspected his presence they would have probably postponed their fight
until a more opportune moment, for this spectator was no other than the
Baron himself. As he saw from a distance the trio gesticulating in a
very animated manner, he judged that a disorderly scene was in
preparation, and as he had wished for a long time to put an end to the
quarrelsome ways of the chateau servants, he was not sorry to catch them
in the very act, so as to make an example of them. At first, he stooped
and concealed himself in the thickets, ready to appear for the
denouement.
As Lambernier saw the giant's fist coming down upon him, be darted to one
side and the blow only struck the air, making the coachman stumble from
the force of his impetuosity. Lambernier profited by this position to
gather all his strength, and threw himself upon his adversary, whom he
seized by the flank and gave such a severe blow as to bring him down upon
his knees. He then gave him a dozen more blows upon the head, and
succeeded in overthrowing him completely.
If the coachman had not had a cranium as hard as iron, he probably could
not have received such a storm of fisticuffs without giving up the ghost.
Fortunately for him, he had one of those excellent Breton heads that
break the sticks which beat them. Save for a certain giddiness, he came
out of the scramble safe and sound. Far from losing his presence of mind
by the disadvantageous position in which he found himself, he supported
himself upon the ground with his left hand, and, passing his other arm
behind him, he wound it around the workman's legs, who thus found himself
reaped down, so to speak, and a moment later was lying on his back in
front of his adversary. The latter, holding him fast with his strong
hands, placed a knee, as large as a plate, upon his chest and then pulled
off the cap that his enemy had pushed down over his eyes, and proceeded
to administer full justice to him.
"Ah! you thought you'd attack me treacherously, did you?" said he, with
a derisive chuckle as if to slacken the speed of his horses. "You know
short reckonings make good friends. Oh! what a fine thrashing you are
going to receive, my friend! Take care! if you try to bite my hand,
I'll choke you with my two fingers, do you hear! Now, then, take this
for the green toad; this, for my horses' sake; this, for Mademoiselle
Marianne!"
He followed each "this" with a heavy blow from his fist. At the third
blow the blood poured out of the mouth of the carpenter, who writhed
under the pressure of his adversary's knee like a buffalo stifled by a
boa-constrictor; he succeeded at last in freeing one hand, which he
thrust into his trousers' pocket.
"Ah! you rascal! I am killed!" howled the coachman, giving a bound
backward. Lambernier, profiting by his freedom, jumped upon his feet,
and, without troubling himself as to his adversary, who had fallen on his
knees and was pressing his hand to his left thigh; he picked up his cap
and vest and started off through the clearing. Rousselet, who until then
had prudently kept aside, tried to stop the workman, at a cry from his
companion, but the scoundrel brandished his iron compass before his eyes
with such an ugly look that the peasant promptly left the way open for
him.
At this tragic and unexpected denouement, Bergenheim, who was getting
ready to make his appearance from behind the trees and to interpose his
authority, started in full pursuit of the would-be murderer. From the
direction he took, he judged that he would try to reach the river by
passing over the rock. He walked in this direction, with his gun over
his shoulder, until he reached the foot of the steps which descended into
the grotto. Christian crouched behind some bushes to wait for
Lambernier, who must pass this way, and it was at this moment that
Gerfaut, who was forty feet below him, saw him without suspecting the
reason for his attitude.
Bergenheim soon found out that he had calculated correctly when he heard
a sound like that made by a wild boar when he rushes through the thickets
and breaks the small branches in his path, as if they were no more than
blades of grass. Soon Lambernier appeared with a haggard, wild look and
a face bleeding from the blows he had received. He stopped for a moment
to catch his breath and to wipe off his compass with a handful of grass;
he then staunched the blood streaming from his nose and mouth, and after
putting on his coat started rapidly in the direction of the river.
"Halt!" exclaimed the Baron, suddenly, rising before him and barring his
passage.
The workman jumped back in terror; then he drew out his compass a second
time and made a movement as if to throw himself upon this new adversary,
out of sheer desperation. Christian, at this threatening pantomime,
raised his gun to his cheek with as much coolness and precision as he
would have shown at firing into a body of soldiers.
"Down with your weapon!" he exclaimed, in his commanding voice, "or I
will shoot you down like a rabbit."
The carpenter uttered a hoarse cry as he saw the muzzle of the gun within
an inch of his head, ready to blow his brains out. Feeling assured that
there was no escape for him, he closed his compass and threw it with an
angry gesture at the Baron's feet.
"Now," said the latter, "you will walk straight ahead of me as far as the
chateau, and if you turn one step to the right or left, I will send the
contents of my gun into you. So right about march!"
As he said these words, he stooped, without losing sight of the workman,
and picked up the compass, which he put in his pocket.
"Monsieur le Baron, it was the coachman who attacked me first; I had to
defend myself," stammered Lambernier.
"All right, we will see about that later. March on!"
"You will deliver me up to the police--I am a ruined man!"
"That will make one rascal the less," exclaimed Christian, repelling with
disgust the workman, who had thrown himself on his knees before him.
"I have three children, Monsieur, three children," he repeated, in a
supplicating tone.
"Will you march!" replied Bergenheim imperiously, as he made a gesture
with his gun as if to shoot him.
Lambernier arose suddenly, and the expression of terror upon his
countenance gave place to one of resolution mingled with hatred and
scorn.
"Very well," he exclaimed, "let us go on! but remember what I tell you;
if you have me arrested, you will be the first to repent of it, Baron
though you are. If I appear before a judge, I will tell something that
you would pay a good price for."
Bergenheim looked fixedly at Lambernier.
"What do you mean by such insolence?" said he.
"I will tell you what I mean, if you will promise to let me go; if you
give me into the hands of the police, I repeat it, you will repent not
having listened to me to-day."
"This is some idle yarn, made to gain time; no matter, speak; I will
listen."
The workman darted a defiant glance at Christian.
"Give me your word of honor to let me go afterward."
"If I do not do so, are you not at liberty to repeat your story?"
replied the Baron, who, in spite of his curiosity, would not give his
word to a scoundrel whose only aim probably was to escape justice.
This observation impressed Lambernier, who, after a moment's reflection,
assumed a strange attitude of cool assurance, considering the position in
which he found himself. Not a sound was to be heard; even the barking of
the dogs in the distance had ceased. The deepest silence surrounded
them; even Gerfaut, in the place where he was concealed, could no longer
see them, now that Bergenheim had left the edge of the cliff; from time
to time their voices reached him, but he could not distinguish the
meaning of their words.
Leaning with one hand upon his gun, Christian waited for the carpenter to
begin his story, gazing at him with his clear, piercing eyes. Lambernier
bore this glance without flinching, returning it in his insolent way.
"You know, Monsieur, that when the alterations were made in Madame's
apartment, I had charge of the carving for her chamber. When I took away
the old woodwork, I saw that the wall between the windows was constructed
out of square, and I asked Madame if she wished that the panel should be
fastened like the other or if she preferred it to open so that it would
make a closet. She said to have it open by means of a secret spring. So
I made the panel with concealed hinges and a little button hidden in the
lower part of the woodwork; it only needs to be pressed, after turning it
to the right, and the woodwork will open like a door."
Christian had now become extremely attentive.
"Monsieur will remember that he was in Nancy at the time, and that
Madame's chamber was completed during his absence. As I was the only one
who worked in this room, the other workmen not being capable of carving
the wood as Madame wished, I was the only person who knew that the panel
was not nailed down the length of the wall."
"Well?" asked the Baron, impatiently.
"Well," Lambernier replied, in a careless tone, "if, on account of the
blow which I gave the coachman, it is necessary for me to appear in
court, I shall be obliged to tell, in order to revenge myself, what I saw
in that closet not more than a month ago."
"Finish your story," exclaimed Bergenheim, as he clenched the handle of
his gun.
"Mademoiselle Justine took me into this room in order to hang some
curtains; as I needed some nails, she went out to get them. While I was
examining the woodwork, which I had not seen since it had been put in
place, I saw that the oak had warped in one place because it was not dry
enough when it was used. I wished to see if the same thing had happened
between the windows, and if the panel could open. I pressed the spring,
and when the door opened I saw a small package of letters upon the little
shelf; it seemed very singular to me that Madame should choose this place
to keep her letters, and the thought came to me that she wished to
conceal them from Monsieur."
Bergenheim gave the workman a withering glance, and made a sign for him
to continue.
"They were already talking about discharging me from the chateau's
employ; I do not know how it happened, but the thought entered my head
that perhaps one of these letters would be of use to me, and I took the
first one in the package; I had only time to close the panel when
Mademoiselle Justine returned."
"Very well! what is there in common between these letters and the
criminal court that awaits you?" asked Christian, in an altered voice,
although he tried to appear indifferent.
"Oh! nothing at all," replied the carpenter, with an air of
indifference; "but I thought that you would not like people to know that
Madame had a lover."
Bergenheim shivered as if he were taken with a chill, and his gun dropped
from his hand to the ground.
As quick as thought Lambernier stooped over to seize the gun, but he did
not have time to carry out his intention, for he was seized by the throat
and half choked by an iron hand.
"That letter! that letter!" said Christian to him, in a low, trembling
voice, and he put his face down close to the carpenter's, as if he feared
that a breath of wind might carry away his words and repeat them.
"Let me alone first, I can not breathe--" stammered the workman, whose
face, was becoming purple and his eyes starting out of his head, as if
his adversary's fingers had been a rope.
The latter granted the prayer by loosening his hold of the carpenter's
neck and seizing him by his vest in such a way as to take away all chance
of escape while leaving him free to speak.
"This letter!" he repeated.
Frightened by the shaking he had just received, and not in a condition to
reflect with his usual prudence, Lambernier mechanically obeyed this
order; he hunted in his pockets for some time, and at last took a
carefully folded paper from his vest-pocket, saying with a stunned air:
"Here it is. It is worth ten louis."
Christian seized the paper and opened it with his teeth, for he could not
use his hands without releasing his prisoner. It was, like all notes of
this kind, without address, seal, or signature. It did not differ from
most of its kind save in the natural beauty of its style and its simple
eloquence. Ardent protestations, sweet and loving complaints, those
precious words that one bestows only upon the woman he loves and which
betray a love that has yet much to desire but as much to hope. The
handwriting was entirely unknown to Bergenheim, but Clemence's name,
which was repeated several times, did not permit him to doubt for a
moment that this note was written to his wife. When he had finished
reading, he put it in his pocket with apparent serenity, and then looked
at Lambernier, who, during this time, had remained motionless under the
hand that detained him.
"You are mistaken, Lambernier," said he to him; "it is one of my letters
before my marriage." And he tried to force himself to smile; but the
muscles of his lips refused to act this falsehood, and drops of cold
perspiration stood upon his forehead and at the roots of his hair.
The carpenter had watched the change in the Baron's countenance as he
read the letter. He was persuaded that he could turn the capital
importance of his revelations into profit for himself; he believed that
the time had come when he might gain advantage by showing that he
understood perfectly well the value of the secret he had just imparted.
So he replied with a glance of intelligence:
"Monsieur's handwriting must have changed greatly, then; I have some of
his orders which do not resemble this any more than a glass of water does
a glass of wine."
Christian tried to find a response but failed. His eyebrows contracted
in a manner that betokened a coming storm, but Lambernier was not
disturbed by this symptom; he continued in a more and more assured voice:
"When I said that this letter was worth ten louis, I meant that it was
worth that much to a mere stranger, and I am very sure I should not have
to go very far to find one; but Monsieur le Baron is too sensible not to
know the value of this secret. I do not wish to set a price upon it, but
since I am obliged to go away on account of this coachman, and have no
money--"
He did not have time to finish; Bergenheim seized him in the middle of
the body and made him describe a horizontal half-circle without touching
the ground, then threw him upon his knees on the edge of the path which
descended almost perpendicularly alongside the rocks. Lambernier
suddenly saw his haggard face reflected in the river fifty feet below.
At this sight, and feeling a powerful knee between his shoulders which
bent him over the abyss, as if to make him appreciate its dangers, the
workman uttered a terrified cry; his hands clutched wildly at the tufts
of grass and roots of plants which grew here and there on the sides of
the rocks, and he struggled with all his might to throw himself back upon
the ground. But it was in vain for him to struggle against the superior
strength of his adversary, and his attempts only aggravated the danger of
his position. After two or three powerless attempts, he found himself
lying upon his stomach with half his body hanging over the precipice,
having nothing to prevent him from falling over but Bergenheim's hand,
which held him by the collar and at the same time hindered him from
rising.
"Have you ever said one word about this?" asked the Baron, as he took
hold of the trunk of a tree to steady himself upon this dangerous ground
that he had chosen as the field of discussion.
"To nobody!--ah!--how my head swims!" replied the carpenter, closing his
eyes in terror, for the blood rushing to his brain made him dizzy, and it
seemed to him that the river was slowly reaching him.
"You see that if I make one gesture, you are a dead man," replied the
Baron, leaning upon him harder yet.
"Give me up to the police; I will say nothing about the letters; as sure
as there is a God, I will say nothing. But do not let me fall--hold me
tight--do not let go of me--I am slipping--oh! holy mother of God!"
Christian taking hold of the tree near him, leaned over and raised
Lambernier up, for he really was incapable of doing so himself; fright
and the sight of the water had given him vertigo. When he was upon his
legs again, he reeled like a drunken man and his feet nearly gave way
beneath him. The Baron looked at him a moment in silence, but at last he
said:
"Go away, leave the country at once; you have time to fly before there
will be any pursuit. But remember that if I ever hear one word of what
has passed between us from your lips, I shall know how to find you and
you will die by my hand."
"I swear by the Holy Virgin and by all the saints--" stammered
Lambernier, who had suddenly become a very fervent Catholic.
Christian pointed with his finger to the stone steps beneath them.
"There is your road; pass over the rock, through the woods, and reach
Alsace. If you conduct yourself well, I will assure your living. But
remember; one single indiscreet word, and you are a dead man."
At these words he pushed him into the path with one of those quick
movements which very powerful men can not always calculate the effect of.
Lambernier, whose strength was almost exhausted by the struggles he had
undergone, had not vigor enough left to stand, and he lost his balance at
this violent as well as unexpected push. He stumbled over the first
step, reeled as he tried to regain his footing, and fell head first down
the almost vertical declivity. A ledge of the cliff, against which he
first struck, threw him upon the loose rocks. He slowly glided downward,
uttering lamentable cries; he clutched, for a moment, a little bush which
had grown in a crevice of the rocks but he did not have strength enough
to hold on to it, his arm having been broken in three places by his fall.
He let go of it suddenly, and dropped farther and farther down uttering a
last terrible shriek of despair; he rolled over twice again-and then fell
into the torrent below, that swallowed him up like a mass already
deprived of life.
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